Let me be Your Downfall
by SallySorrell
Summary: Prequel to "Simple Things". Renee's favorite moments during her time with Jack. Now complete!
1. A Welcome Change

"Bit chilly, isn't it?"

He pulled his hands into his sleeves, and exhaled, slowly. His breath cut a steady path through the night air.

She could only nod.

She was still in shock!

Here they were, walking out of their doctor's office, and he was smiling, for the first time in a decade.

"You okay?" he asked next, looking at her. Renee refused to look back. Of course she was. _He_ wasn't. He never would be.

"I'm fine, Jack."

The wind twisted its way into her jacket, rendering it useless. She shivered.

"The car's right over there, Ren... come on."

Renee halted, and stared straight ahead. He looked in this direction, unsure of what he was missing.

"No, I like the wind. It's a nice change."

Defiantly, she rolled up the sleeves of her coat, studying her arms as she did so.

"Were you expecting a gentleman?"

He reached for her jacket and removed it. Then he hung it over his arm, and continued watching her.

Now amused, Renee studied her surroundings. They were maybe ten feet from their car. They stood in the parking lot. The only source of light was a streetlight somewhere in the distance, and the occasional set of headlights as someone left.

Renee's shoulders shook, very slightly.

"Renee, the car is _right_ there." He gestured to it with one hand, still enveloped in his sleeve.

"I know. I can see it."

For a minute, the only sound in the lot was relaxed breathing and hissing wind.

"Jack..."

He looked her way, and prepared her jacket.

"I don't know what to say right now... I… I feel like I should be saying something, but..."

The jacket was slid over her arms as she stammered. Jack pulled it to her shoulders, even folding the collar up for her.

"I can't come up with anything."

"That's fine, Renee."

His hands remained patiently on her shoulders. His breath trailed down her neck, noticeably relaxing her... though her blood chilled for a moment.

"Should I be congratulating you or something? I mean, I feel weird."

His hands began gently kneading her shoulders.

"Relax, okay? You don't have to tell me anything."

Her lips quivered, and she wanted to cry at the simplicity of this. Some complex emotion, and such simple things, simple words and ideas. Everything confused her now.

"This'll be nice... I can _relax_ Renee. Thank you for that."

True enough. Oddly worded, but the truth.

She spun around to face him, her tears all hidden in a cage of her eyelashes. Before he could study this (as she knew he would), she leaned in to kiss him. Her lips softly met his, and she made note of the lines that dug through them. She didn't mind.

"You're welcome." she told Jack, as he backed away.

Eternity awaited them. They'd stumble through it, at a slow pace, enjoying the scenery, and, above all else, they'd enjoy one another. They'd marry, they'd reunite a torn family, and they'd hope several times that they had their own. They'd relax; they'd study, as well as _be_ studied.

Eternity lasted three years, five months, and sixteen days.

Renee counted each one.


	2. On Vacation

"Wait for me, Jack!"

She felt rather childish as she ran after him, sand flying behind her.

He veered toward the water, the ocean, and looked back at her. Then he stopped, and allowed her to catch up.

Here they were, walking along some beach in California (Renee didn't even care which), just enjoying themselves. It was some last-minute vacation that they both needed.

Renee liked seeing him this way.

He was just wandering along, wearing shorts and a polo shirt. His hair (or what remained of it) trembled in the wind. He had a camera too, though this was hidden in his pocket.

She could get used to this…

"Ya know, I took Nina here once…"

"Excuse me?" Renee asked. What, was he insulting her, or just trying to make conversation? He wasn't very good at either.

He had no answer. Really, he didn't even know where to go with the idea; he just wanted to say _something_.

Jack nudged her shoulder as they walked. She stumbled, then gave him a sarcastic glare.

The entire walk, he just looked at the sand, almost analyzing it. He couldn't take a look at her, or he wouldn't focus on anything.

She looked so _perfect_ tonight. She was beyond his description. Perfect didn't even do her justice. Not in the pale blue sundress she was wearing. One of Jack's sweaters hung loosely over her arms.

"Go on, I'll catch up." He told her, in a velvety whisper.

"What?"

"Keep walking."

She did so, without a clue why. For maybe ten minutes, she proceeded walking, all alone. There was no point in questioning him; he'd have a good reason. And she wasn't aware of it for a good reason, too.

Renee squinted, focusing on a bright umbrella in the distance. No one sat under it, though a few seagulls landed there occasionally. Then she looked to the sun. It was setting, creating the most _perfect_ scene. Renee thought of it as something from a storybook. A couple walking along the beach, while the sun set. She sighed to herself, taking in her surroundings.

Then, just then, she heard his footsteps along the sand.

"Renee!" he called, walking again.

She turned her head, and it was greeted by an obnoxious flash of light. What? He'd taken her picture?

"Oh, Jack! What was that for?"

She acted like this was a terrible offense. She blinked several times, chasing the remnants of the flash from her eyes.

No answer. Not vocally, anyway.

Jack marched up beside her, and slung an arm around her. Renee's head fell slowly to his shoulder, and her eyes shut. Jack's did too, for a moment.

He was her protector. Always.

He had to be paying attention, when she wasn't, and even when she was.

After some time, they reached the dormant umbrella. Renee thought of them sitting under it, leaning on each other and watching the sun set. Jack had something else in mind.

He turned Renee toward him, with his arms still wrapped around her.

"What?" she practically giggled.

Still, there was no answer. Who needed _words_? Words didn't mean anything. Not when everything around him was beyond words anyway.

Renee put her hands on his shoulders, and stared directly into his eyes.

"Shh." He told her, not knowing why. She'd just start trying to put more words together. She did that frequently, trying to find something to say. It wasn't necessary anymore. He didn't need to hear all the details. He just wanted to take a break and _see_ them, for himself. And with her there beside him.

He rocked her from side to side, very slowly. Her head still rested on his shoulder. This, normally acceptable, was bringing Jack a bit of pain. Too bad. His entire body had been sore over the past few days, a new side-effect. That didn't need to halt his vacation, or his _life_.

"I'm gonna frame that picture of you." He whispered in her ear, knowing she'd disagree.

"What? You haven't even looked at it. I bet it looks like crap." She said, looking up at him.

"It can't."

She felt like pouting, but didn't.

Her head was then reunited with his shoulder, and he winced to himself.

Jack's hands tightened around her, and they continued swaying to some non-existent rhythm. Renee's eyes shut again.

And, as his head leaned to rest atop hers, he shut his eyes too.


	3. Sure

A loud, rattling knock shook her front door. Renee not only heard it, but _watched _it.

She was seated on her couch, just studying the room around her. There was nothing foreign here, until the knock came along.

Visitors? She never had visitors. Not even Larry had been to her house!

Renee struggled to get up. She'd recently showered, and was planning to fall asleep in her robe, there on the couch.

Cautiously, she inched the door open, and switched the lights on beside her door.

"Renee?" a raspy voice asked.

"Jack? Is that you? What is it?"

None of these questions were answered. Another was asked in their place.

"Can I come in?"

She pulled the door further open, but never completely. He had to turn and slide sideways through it.

"I'm sorry... I shouldn't have come over... but I-I wanted to... talk." He explained, upon seeing her blank face. Jack sounded unsure of his own story, but welcomed himself in.

He took off his long coat, and folded it over his arm. Without a word, she took it from him and laid it flat on a nearby dining chair.

"It's okay, Jack. I wanted to talk too." She said. Her brain was a bit delayed when deprived of sleep, "Sit down."

Grandly, he sat on one end of the couch.

"Thirsty?" she asked after a few minutes. Her manners had packed up and left with her thought process.

"Sure..."

He was. He had been for a day. Two, even. But he saw no point in demanding anything. Not from her. He owed her too much. She owed him _nothing_, not even the offered drink.

"Coffee sound okay?" Renee inquired, heading for the kitchen.

He watched her as she moved. The kitchen was adjoined to this den, and he could observe her between counter and cabinets.

"Sure." He said again.

"What'd ya want to talk about, Jack?" she still stood in the kitchen, just watching the coffee pot fill. She counted the drops, watched the steam rise from it. Anything to distract herself. She knew _exactly_ what _she_ wanted to talk about. His idea was probably far from it.

"I'm sorry... about everything that happened today. I shouldn't have dragged you into anything." He searched for her eyes, hovering beneath the cabinets. He saw only her hair, gleaming and radiant under the kitchen lights.

All the lights in the house seemed to be on. Was she planning on getting any sleep or what? Jack studied this, trying to come up with a logical reason.

He was lost in this pondering until Renee reentered the room, a tray held carefully between both hands. She set it down on the wooden coffee table that rested in front of the couch. She motioned to one of the cups.

"There. I hope milk and creamer are fine..."

"Sure." Was the word of the evening.

She picked up her own mug, and took an easygoing sip of it.

"You didn't drag me into anything, Jack." Her mind was still running behind, "_I_ pulled _you_ out of a court hearing. My fault, okay?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Hey, you could've killed me earlier. You spared me, for god knows why."

She _was_ innocent, right? He was just getting deeper undercover, no deaths were necessary, even for that.

After a gentle sip of his coffee, Jack actually looked at Renee for the first time since he'd entered her house. She hid behind the door, then behind the counter. He'd looked at her staircase, then at the couch in her living room.

Her arms were crossed at her chest, and she looked down at her legs, still damp from her shower. Her hair let a trail of water sweep down her back, so she shivered at random times during the conversation.

"I'm sorry..." she felt like apologizing for her appearance and state. Everyone had been saying sorry earlier, so it must be her turn with the phrase.

"It's alright..."

All was still, except the barely audible sipping of coffee. And Jack tapping his foot.

"This isn't much of a conversation..." Renee observed.

He placed his cup back down on the tray, and looked again for her eyes. Now he found them.

"What did you want to talk about, Jack? I'm done with 'today'..."

This urging turned into a lovely, rather poetic tête-à-tête. They trekked through tales of families, friends, that beautiful bookshelf in the corner, Jack's fate, cooking, scars, and vacations.

Renee huddled into the very corner of the couch, her legs folded up in front of her. One of her arms was plastered to the armrest, and she looked only at Jack.

Eventually, Jack scooted this way as well, until he was as close beside her as he could get.

At this point, the discussion wandered back toward the dreaded topic of "today."

It was more anticipated this time around. Jack had plenty to say, but vocalized none of it. Renee didn't know what to say, and rambled for the fun of it.

"Can I do anything for you, Jack? I totally forgot about earlier..." it was the pathogen she referred to.

"You don't owe me anything, Renee."

"I asked if I could do anything for you. As a favor, not as payment."

He didn't know how to answer. Other than to move closer, which was virtually impossible. Renee watched him as he did so.

"What?" she asked, with the beginning of a smile on her face.

Now he couldn't _ask_. Before she could protest, he wrapped one arm around her. His free hand stroked her hair, as he'd done for Kim, for Teri, Nina, Kate, Claudia, and Tony. She felt several of his tears drift to her shoulders.

She draped her arms over Jack.

As he pulled her closer, she moved to copy him.

One of her hands moved cautiously toward the back of his head. She ran it through his uneven hair.

A smooth lock of it was fixed to her wet fingers. He was oblivious; it couldn't have been painful.

She looked at the chunk of hair in her hand and sighed.

Jack was still there comforting her, and hadn't noticed this yet.

She dropped it to the floor, and leaned to kick it under the couch.

He didn't need a reminder of his fate. He needed a _distraction_ from it.

He needed _this_. And he needed her.


	4. One of Those Days

Renee was awake early. Around four, she was already situated at the computer downstairs, reading her weekly updates from the FBI.

Occasionally, she'd offer them some help with data sorting or management, for a bit of money. Otherwise, neither of them went to work. They'd been more than compensated by President Taylor, who was emotionally attached to them both.

"Not again!" she groaned to herself. Then she heard the soft padding of footsteps down their carpeted stairs.

This had to be the third time in a month. Renee would get an urgent warning from the Bureau, and it generally concerned Jack.

Some up-and-coming terrorist thought he could go and torture him. Well, not if Renee could help it.

"Jack?" she called, turning to face the staircase behind her.

"Hmm?"

"Are you okay?"

"Fine, Ren..."

No, he wasn't. She could tell by his tone.

Pushing the chair aside, she paced from the computer desk toward Jack.

She heard him hit the kitchen tile before she reached him.

"Jack?"

No answer.

She arrived to see him, shaking, on the floor.

"Jack, where are they?" she asked, referring to one of the many bottles of medicine. He normally had one with him. Maybe not the _right_ one for the situation, but one of them.

"The... it's... I need the shot... they're upstairs. My cabinet."

She nearly tripped up the stairs and through their bedroom. She threw open the cabinet and grabbed one of each thing she found.

"Okay, Jack. I'm coming, stay with me." Somehow, she kept her voice calm.

He put out one of his hands, waiting, as knelt beside him.

Normally, she'd hand him the shot or pill or whatever, and he'd find a way to treat himself.

His waiting palm then folded under his arm, lost in a mass of shaking.

Renee read over the labels of the syringes she held. There, she'd found the right one, and the right amount. Now she had to find the right vein.

...Which would be easy, had Jack been sitting still.

Renee barricaded his arm down with one of hers. It shouldn't have worked; he should've been stronger than her. Now she knew something was wrong.

She took the cover off of one of the needles, and pointed it to the ceiling. Quickly, she read over the dosages, and marked with her finger how much to administer.

"Renee..." he gasped.

"Try to hold still, Jack. I'm here."

She shoved the needle into the soft flesh on his arm. A trail of blood met her; he groaned.

"Damn it! Jack... I'm so sorry!"

She tried again, and hit her target. She emptied most of the syringe before removing it. Slowly, Jack became still. He panted, and lines of sweat collected on his forehead.

Renee pressed her hand over his wound, to apply pressure. She'd get a bandage when she had the time.

"Thank you..." he managed, shifting into a sitting position. He then struggled to get up. She helped.

Gently, he placed a kiss on her lips, furthering his gratitude.

"Are you okay, Jack?" she used his name as often as she could, to help keep his focus.

"Yah..." He limped to the cabinets in the kitchen, and dug for a bandage. They were as common in this house as water, and probably _outnumbered _water.

Meanwhile, Renee went back to her work. Yes, the update was about Jack. And a terrorist.

Would they ever figure out he was dying anyway? Go on, torture him, get no information, then let him die in _peace_!

She was fed up with these. Now she would have to find a place to keep him for a few days, until the problem was resolved. Oh, and she had to actually resolve the problem, by herself. All while hiding it from Jack. He didn't need to deal with this stuff anymore. That was Renee's purpose, wasn't it? To let him _relax_. To be his distraction. And, her favorite; to be his guardian. Always… for as long as 'always' would last.

"Hey… ya find the first aid kit yet?"

She could sense him nodding as she sat back down in front of the computer.

Renee scooped up her phone, one that Kim had found for her, and dialed Chloe.

"O'Brian…" was the answer, quite annoyed.

"Chloe? Hey, it's Renee… Walker." She chose to use her maiden name for legal matters, "Can you do me a favor?"

"Go."

"Hang on a second, I can't talk right now."

Jack picked up on this.

"Who's on the phone, sweetheart?"

"It's nothing, Jack. One minute."

Renee maneuvered around him, and found her way out the front door. She stood, barefoot, on the burning pavement, shuffling pointlessly.

"Can you…" Renee pondered how to phrase her request, "Take care of Jack for me? Just for a few days…"

"What? What's going on?"

"Just got another update from the Bureau and some wannabe terrorist is after him. I don't think it's anything serious… I just don't want him to worry."

"Do you want me to come over to your house? I can get there in maybe… twenty minutes if I leave now." Chloe sounded like she was already on her way.

"No, that's the first place they'll look. I can get records of you erased and keep him there… if you don't mind."

"Of course not… I mean, it's _Jack_. He'd do the same for anyone else."

"God, Thanks Chloe. Can you pick him up?"

"Fine."

Satisfied, Renee shoved her phone back into her pocket. She stepped through the door, and looked at Jack as she shut it.

"Chloe's on her way over." Renee informed him.

"What's up?"

Well, it would be impossible to hide it from him. And impossible for him to follow whatever orders she threw him. But why not try? It was a perfectly logical risk, by Renee's standards.

"Someone's after you. Chloe volunteered to keep you safe, okay? I'm gonna get your medicine, and I'll pack for you."

Jack caught her arm, his hand quivering unsurely.

"I'm capable of packing."

"You're fine with going?"

"If it'll keep you from worrying about me, of course. It's Chloe… Haven't seen her in awhile. And Prescott's a good kid."

He let go, and turned back toward the stairs, leaving Renee standing in solitude.

_Fine then_ she thought, opening the cabinets again, _I'm going to work. _

She reached into a compartment that was hidden at the back of one cupboard, and, from it, she removed a lightweight handgun. This was immediately forced into a holster, which was then attached to her belt.

Then, Jack's footsteps were heard, in a rush, down the stairs. Already, he had a bag slung over his shoulder. His arm shook as he came forward to hug his wife.

"Ren… th-the rest of the... shot."

This frenzied shaking took over the rest of his body, until she arrived, and stuck the needle into its place. She tightly grasped his shoulders, pulling him close.

"Thanks." He told her, once he was finally, _finally_ still.

"Are you okay, Jack?" this had been his tenth seizure in a week, which was abnormal, "Maybe I should stay with you."

"I'm fine, Renee."

She had to be sure. With her luck, as soon as Chloe drove off, he'd be dead.

Jack had to get through this. He was feeling worse. Renee couldn't know that. She'd worry, and try to stop him. He'd be fine. He'd hold on, just for her.

Renee's phone rang. Once, twice. Stunned, she hesitantly pulled it from underneath her weapon.

"Walker."

"It's Chloe. I think I'm being followed."

There, right to the point. How like an analyst.

"I'll take care of it…"

"Should I try and lose them?"

"I _said_ I'll take care of it. Come straight here."

The phone was flipped shut.

"Someone's following Chloe." Renee said, responding to Jack's inquisitive expression.

There was silence, for a span of five minutes.

"Are you absolutely _positive_ that you're okay, Jack? I… I want to be with you."

No, he wasn't sure. If anything, he'd felt worse that morning than he had over the entire tormented thing that some called a life. _His _life.

Renee stared at him, just _stared_; clueless about her next action or inquiry.

The color bled from Jack's eyes with each passing tear. The emotion, however, swelled up inside of them, until the white of his eyes was hardly visible.

"I haven't been positive about anything since I married you, Renee. You know that."

Before she could think, Renee leaned forward, and kissed his cheek.

The doorbell rang as she pulled away.

Both of them could hear a rushed, worried chorus of breathing from behind the door.

"He's right _behind me_!" Chloe nearly shouted, as the door was swung open.

A gunshot echoed through the neighborhood.

Out of instinct, Jack swept Chloe under his arm, and pushed her to the far side of the room.

Renee stepped out of the front door, and slammed it after her.

A new, black vehicle was parked in the street that faced their house. Not Chloe's.

Then a man, also cloaked in black, dashed from the vehicle, and began firing at Renee's front door. Another, in the same uniform, followed from the passenger side.

Renee drew her gun, and pulled the trigger. One body fell to the pavement. She heard a shriek from somewhere. One of the neighbors was bound to hear the commotion.

She fired again, and watched as the other man fell to the ground.

"Renee?!" a shout came from inside the house.

Yes, it was time to go back to work. Maybe she could kiss him 'goodbye', and pretend they were nothing short of normal. Just for one day.


	5. One Answer

"This is the place, right?"

Jack nodded from the passenger seat.

"Yah, pull in up here."

She turned their car into a parking space, and smiled at Jack as she removed her key.

"Nice of you to buy dinner..." she informed him, as they opened their doors, "What's the occasion?"

"I'm being spontaneous."

She'd never heard that word from him.

"Oh, are you now? Fine, I won't ask anything else."

There was an occasion, she could tell. She'd learned to read him over the past year. That and the fact that she was instructed to "look nice."

He took hold of Renee's hand as they walked toward the restaurant.

Jack caught the door as another couple walked out. He held it open for Renee. This kind action was rewarded with his favorite smile.

"Bauer..." Jack said to the woman at the front. She stood behind a counter and a stack of elegant menus.

"Yes, right this way, sir."

Renee inspected Jack's face and expression, looking for a reason.

She turned back and followed their hostess, searching the empty tables.

They stopped upon reaching the back of the restaurant, and this stop was only temporary.

Their hostess proceeded, taking them out an ornate door to a secluded patio. Several tables were there, and a red banner, reading "Reserved", hung around its perimeter. Maybe five other people sat outside.

"Right here, Mr. Bauer." The woman announced, gesturing at a table in the corner.

From her seat, Renee could see the beach. The ocean lapped up onto the sand, dragging a layer away with each visit. The sun was right above eye-level, and didn't bother Renee in the least. She recalled a vacation they'd taken, barely two months ago. It was at a different beach, but the principle was the same. And Jack still had that stupid picture, displayed on the counter beside his bed.

The hostess left, promising that their designated waitress would arrive soon.

Jack rested his arms on the table and sighed. He coughed, only once, and then moved a hand to cover his heart.

"Jack?" Renee asked, concerned.

He removed his hand, as if she'd scolded him for this behavior.

As a precaution, Renee dug into her pocket, in search of Jack's medicine.

Upon feeling it, she looked back at the man opposite her.

She twisted her fingers around the bottle's cap, ready to remove it when necessary.

Their waitress returned, and handed them each a menu. Drinks were ordered.

Renee didn't even remember what she asked for. All her focus was placed in her pocket, with the bottle of medicine. How fast could she get it open? Would it get caught on some offending seam or thread? Could she get help? They were only at some restaurant… At least it was high-end. Maybe there'd be a doctor dining there. Renee didn't like putting so much faith in coincidence. Or in her pocket, but that's where it was.

Jack studied her. The color of his eyes dimmed as she looked at them, much like focusing on a single star in the sky.

"What?" he inquired, leaning forward. She wanted to ask the same thing.

"Do… you need them?" Again, referring to the pills that she was in charge of.

He did nothing. Nothing but reach, again, for his chest.

Renee threw the bottle onto the table, watching Jack the entire time.

She scooped it up between her nervous hands, eager to read its purpose.

Satisfied, she pulled the cap off of it, and poured all of its contents into her hand.

All this time, she looked only at Jack.

"Well?" he asked, leaning forward again.

Renee glanced at her palm. A few small, white pills sat in a circle. Something shined from beneath them.

"I'm fine, Ren." He assured her, stretching his hand out to meet hers. It didn't shake, and he wasn't sweating. His eyes remained focused. He must be telling the truth, then.

Jack ran two fingers over the medicine that rested in her hand, brushing them aside. Renee just watched, clueless. What the hell was he doing? Did he need the medicine or what?

Several of the pills crashed to the table, obviously in the way of whatever Jack was doing. Renee continued watching, eventually getting the idea.

It was a ring.

A golden band was sitting there on her palm.

"Renee…"

A tear formed on the very corner of Renee's eye. She held onto it, however. It didn't need to ruin the moment. Wait, it could be a tear of joy…

She let it fall.

"I want to thank you for everything you've done for me since we met. I want to stay with you, and I want to… _love_ you, Renee."

"Oh, Jack! I know you do…"

"Will you marry me?"

She was waiting for the question, obviously, but it still managed to surprise her.

Now _this _was undeniably the most creative proposal Renee had ever seen, let alone been _receiving_. She'd ponder the innocence of it later. Now, an answer mattered. And there was only one answer she could give.

She stood up, and let the contents of her hand fall. The pills scattered, rolling across the wooden floor. She kept a tight grip on the ring, however, until he reached for it.

"Of _course_, Jack." She did her best to hug him.

She felt so _normal_. She could be a bride, and do all the planning, all the organizing. And invite in all the family.

After reciting the phrase "Renee Bauer" a few million times in her head, she looked up at Jack. He held her closely, as they had done on their latest vacation. This time, she could tell that it hurt him. And, as much as she wanted to let go, she seemed stuck there.

Neither paid any attention to their drinks, as they were placed upon the table.


	6. Scrapbook

Renee felt absolutely terrible, as she sat alone on the couch. A lovely, embroidered maroon book rested on her lap. She flipped it to a random page, hoping it could console her.

All the pictures, all the captions that _she _had written… and she couldn't recall a single one.

Originally, the book was put together for Jack, as a gift. Renee wanted to try her hand at something crafty for a change. Also, it could help compensate for what the dementia had taken away.

This worked fine… until Renee began forgetting too. Her memory deleted things, involuntarily, so that she was again his equal. A nice balancing process that kept them both dependant on each other.

Renee was stirred as Jack met her. He leaned over her shoulder, to examine the pages with her.

She glanced at him for a moment, then, desperately, back to the pictures.

Jack's photography career was on the cover page, because Renee thought he'd like that. It was that picture of her, back when they went to the beach. That was a year ago.

The rest of the book concerned a rather important date: their wedding.

Renee wanted to shut the book. To just slam it shut and end the torment for both of them.

Oh, just her.

Whenever the book was taken out, Jack would hover, and Renee would turn the pages, pretending to remember what had taken place. Jack would smile, and nod with her. He would vainly try to grasp onto every word she told him, and recreate the event in his mind. It would stay there only a few days. Then the process would repeat.

Renee was almost ashamed that she'd forgotten such a thing. It wasn't intentional, but still.

That picture of Jack slipping the ring over her finger for the first time? The one of her hugging Kim? Tony in his sleek tuxedo as Mr. Best Man? There was one of Jack and Chloe in there too. Him and Prescott. Then the sweetest, sepia picture of Renee, kissing Teri's cheek as Jack held her.

But Renee recalled none of it. She didn't even wear her ring anymore. It didn't feel like she'd earned it.

Jack said he'd love her, _forever_, and then let it fall over her finger. She took it off, later that week, and never put it on again. She often looked at it, the key to her memories, and pondered what to do.

"It's nice that Tony was there," Jack said, forgetting _he'd_ invited Tony in the first place. He gestured at a picture. Renee studied it, thinking of what lie to use. None was necessary.

"Yah… he's a nice guy."

And he was. Tony attending the wedding was part of Jack's campaign for him to _move on_. He wasn't a terrorist. He never intended to hurt Jack. And they both knew that. Well, Jack may not have remembered it, but he _once_ knew it.

This evening would be fine, as long as Jack didn't ask any more questions. If he did, Renee didn't want to answer them. She hated lying to him. But she hated this gap in her memory too. At least the lies could fill it in…

"I wonder what Tony's up to," Jack stated. It was rhetorical.

"He was talking about getting CTU back up and running, remember?"

No.

Jack reached over her shoulder and flipped a page.

This was her favorite picture. She could study it endlessly, contemplating its purpose.

She was facing Jack, and he was facing her. Both of her hands were perfecting his tie, while his were curled gently around her shoulders. She could sense him giving a sigh of relief then. Renee's eyes were shut in this particular picture. So were his.

This was indeed a rarity, captured forever in the book, if not in their memories.

Renee shut the book, and looked at Jack instead.


	7. Remember

All the things that Renee took for granted were slowly pulled away from her. She didn't mind, though, because the one, _main_ thing that she _lived_ for was still there beside her.

Jack was sitting peacefully on their back patio. She couldn't tell if he was sleeping or not, courtesy of his sunglasses, but she took no chances.

He hadn't gotten any sleep in over a month. Maybe a few minutes a night, literally, and that was all.

How did he ever live like this, back at CTU?

Renee shuffled across the yard, and then sat down on the folding chair beside him.

Other days, she never had time to think anything trough, because she always kept as close to him as she could. Now he could rest, she could be with him, and she could _think_.

She glanced at his hands, which were folded in his lap. A beam of light met her eyes, reflected from his wedding ring.

Renee studied this item, even crouching in her chair, to be directly across from it.

Now, an epiphany rolled to the front of her mind.

When he told her that he loved her (more than anything in the world) then he _must have_ meant it.

He told it to Kim frequently, but it had obviously lost its effect. And she'd distanced herself from him, over the past few years.

He must have said it to Teri as well. But how could he mean it, if he went, several times a week, to visit Nina?

Maybe Kate got to hear it once or twice, but she eventually destroyed everything.

Renee felt rather satisfied with herself, and decided she was the only person he'd ever loved. He'd die for Kim (well, he'd die for Renee too. That comes in time…)

Her eyes trailed over each part of him. The sun had perfectly warmed their patio, and the gentle chirping of a bird rang through the evening air. His glasses reflected the light, as did his ring.

Wait…

Renee's eyes scanned him again.

Maybe she'd missed something. She _had_ been in a hurry.

No, she was right the first time. But, just to be sure, she glued her eyes to his chest.

It wasn't moving. What? He wasn't _breathing_?

"Jack…?" she whispered. She didn't even hear it as she said it.

"_Jack_?" she tried again, louder this time.

A slight cough echoed from beside her. It resembled choking. A sharp breath followed it. Rather, two.

One from Jack, as he was gagged by some unknown force, and one from Renee, as she fell to his side.

"Jack!" she nearly shouted. It wasn't a question any more.

Suddenly, he sprung up in his seat, glancing around.

"Renee…" he said after a minute of trying to remember her name. Something in him longed to say Nina, but this seemed too innocent. But people are deceiving.

"God, Jack. You scared me…. You okay?"

"Yah." He didn't sound sure of anything but his name.

Renee wrapped an arm around him, pulling him forward in the chair.

"Allison Taylor." He stated, preparing for Renee's series of questions. She had set a list, should the dementia strike again.

She still was uncertain. However, she skipped over the "best man at the wedding?" question, because they'd both erased that day from their minds.

"Your wife's name, Jack?"

He thought for a while, running a hand through what remained of his hair. Bits of it collected on his palm as he did so.

Jack then glanced at his ring, as if it were something foreign.

Still no answer. Renee would rather see him there, failing to breathe, than forgetting something so vital.

For a moment, Renee felt terribly selfish. He didn't know an answer. Only she held it. And she couldn't give it to him.

_She _was his wife.

"Just think about it, Jack." Renee told him, leaning forward. He scooped her hand into his own, and turned it over. No ring was there either. His only guess must have been incorrect.

"Oh no, Jack. Other than me… _Before_ me."

He shook his head, nothing short of clueless.

"Teri?" Renee nudged him. What did the name mean now?

"Shh." Jack held a finger to her lips and silenced her.

It had been almost two years since their _own_ wedding.

"I… I love you, Renee. More than anything in the world."

Gently, she pressed her lips to his. He hesitated at first, still in his delayed state.

"I love you too, Jack."

She'd never told him _that_ before.


	8. Bright

The morning was bright, judging by the heat Renee felt from the window. As a recent precaution, she had covered every window in the house with thick, light-absorbing, navy blue velvet.

He hadn't been getting much sleep lately, so this was Renee's innocent attempt to help.

She ran her hand delicately over the fabric. This was the kitchen window, which faced the east. Renee let out a serene breath.

In the distance, she heard another, matching sigh.

Life had been slow and peaceful lately. As of two weeks ago, Jack had officially moved in with Renee. His room was only down the hall from her own, and Renee like spending free-time watching him sleep.

What else was she to do? She didn't have a job to go back to. Thus, watching him, and letting her mind stumble over ridiculous, illogical possibilities were how she passed the time.

On this particular morning, the lovely probability of falling in love with him crossed her mind. First of all, she was sure this had already happened, but wasn't sure where to take it next. Did he want to suffer alone, like he usually did by default? Or did he want someone there beside him, however helpless she may be at stopping the pain?

Renee rested her head and arms on the kitchen counter. Despite the curtains, she could see a determined bit of sunlight spilling onto the floor in front of her.

It must've infiltrated the guest room as well, because Renee heard a slight rustling from that direction.

Though she was barely making any noise, Renee made sure to stay completely still, hardly breathing. She didn't want to feel responsible, should he wake up.

But if he did, breakfast might be a nice peace-offering. Renee, remaining literally silent, decided to prepare something.

She opened up her refrigerator, searching for something worthwhile. She ran her finger over a few possibilities, and then pulled it away in surrender.

This process continued, as Renee stumbled through her pantry instead. The phone on her counter rang. Startled, Renee spun around to stare at it, hoping an intimidating glare could somehow silence it.

Obviously, it continued ringing, interrupting the peaceful routine of the household. Renee dashed for it, scooping it up, and immediately shoving it back onto the receiver. She let out a relieved sigh, upon hearing _him_ breathe again. Satisfied, Renee returned to scouring the contents of her pantry.

There was some foreign box of cereal that she didn't recall purchasing… pancake mix, and hardly anything else. She never ate breakfast at home, considering the early shift she covered at the FBI. By four AM, she was already situated at her desk. She was generally on some field errand before five.

After finally deciding on some romantic variation of pancakes, Renee felt a cold, strong arm barring her way.

"Jack?" she asked, startled. She didn't turn around, however, fearing it wasn't him.

Another arm joined it, gentle around Renee's waist.

"Good morning…"

Yes, it was Jack.

He spun her around, as if they were dancing, and placed her arms over his shoulders. Her hands hung lightly from them, and she carefully crossed them behind his neck.

One of his palms brushed her face, and, though it was rough, Renee never felt more comfortable.

She could tell that he wasn't thinking, because the first thing he did was pull her lips to his.

Renee felt a bit embarrassed, as her thoughts continued on this line. She turned away after a moment, obviously grinning.

"Coffee?" she inquired, refusing to look at Jack.

"Sure." A typical answer.


	9. The Expected Ending

Renee turned over in her bed, letting the covers fall from her shoulders. He'd woken her up. Again.

His coughing, which had been dormant for the past few weeks, awoke as Renee did. He sat up, threw the blanket off of him, and just _coughed_.

"Are you okay?" this was always the first thing out of her mouth.

"Fine." he managed after a moment. This was always his reply, whether it was true or not.

She tossed the knot of sheets off of her, and stumbled for the bathroom down the hall. He stopped her.

One of his arms, not as strong as usual, reached out and caught her waist as she passed him.

"I don't need them." He said, referring to some variation of pill.

He helped her back to her place, then set the covers back over her, his hand twitching.

"You can go back to sleep. I didn't mean to wake you..."

She sighed and rolled over.

"Goodnight." She whispered, once his back was turned.

It was more than an hour before her eyes even shut again. She could hear him rustling beside her, and she couldn't help but worry.

After awhile, she felt his hand running tenderly over her shoulder blade.

That alone sent her through a maze of pleasant dreams.

Jack felt terrible (in several ways) as he left the room. There she was, peacefully sleeping, unaware. Here he was, in the doorway, holding back another coughing fit, gripping a bottle of medicine, and shoving his cell phone into his pocket. He zipped up his jacket as he walked away.

And he longed to look back at her. He longed to _see_ her, for what he knew would be the last time. No. He had to keep walking, or he wouldn't even make it to his ultimate destination.

He dialed a number on his cell phone as he shut their front door.

"Dr. Jensen." A tired voice stated, on the other line.

"This is Jack Bauer. I'm on my way to your office."

"Anything serious?"

Jack nodded, forgetting he was on the phone. He shoved a pill into his mouth, not even sure which kind it was.

"...Yes. I'll be there, okay?"

"Fine, Jack."

And while he drove, struggling to be alert and cautious, she dreamed, carelessly and joyfully.

The next time she awoke, she expected to hear coughing. She expected to _see _Jack, there beside her.

He wasn't.

No light crept in from under the bathroom door either.

She felt along their dresser. His phone was gone. Shards of his hair replaced it.

"Damn it, Jack." She muttered, only out of habit. She wasn't mad at him; she was never capable of that.

Immediately, she heard her own phone ringing. She snatched it from her side of the dresser, and switched on the lamp above her.

"Jack?" she asked, managing to sit up.

"Renee... hi sweetheart." Such a name was reserved only for Kim Bauer. This must be important.

"Jack, are you okay? Where are you?"

"At the office, alright? I can't see you right now, Renee."

"Oh my God, Jack. No, not right now! You aren't_ dying_ tonight, Jack!" she approached hysterics. She phrased this as a command, desperately hoping Jack was able to obey it.

"It's okay..."

"I'm coming to see you, right now." She got up as she said this, to emphasize the point.

"I don't think you want to, Renee. Do it for me."

"You don't want me there?"

"No, baby. I _really _do… But I think you'd be better at home. I don't want Kim here either... take care of that, okay?"

"I'm coming _right now_. You stay on the phone and don't argue with me."

She'd regret these shouted commands later.

Both of them stayed on the line, but neither spoke. What was there to say? Again, Renee longed to form words. But whatever she said would be, quite literally, taken to his grave. Her words would be chosen carefully, and saved for when she reached the office.

Oh, there's a thought. She needed to reach the office. And he needed to be alive when she got there. What were Renee's odds? He'd been legally dead… _twice_!

"Jack… please; hang on until I get there. _Please_ do that for me."

"Understood."

She could hear the sincerity, and didn't worry at all as she drove.

The panic resumed as she reached the office. She pushed through the front doors, which were normally locked at this time of night, and dashed down the first corridor she could find. Well, the only one with a light on.

This was a private practice and establishment. One that Dr. Macer recommended awhile back. Tonight, Jack would be their only patient, and he wouldn't be there long.

"Renee…? Are you almost here, sweetheart?" more of that name again. It made Renee feel worse each time he repeated it. Kim should be hearing it. No, she was on a plane, but wouldn't make it; there was no way.

"I'm here right now Jack." She hung up and entered the room.

Dr. Jensen was standing at the back of the room, running a hand through his blond hair. Jack was resting on a typical hospital bed, with an IV patched to his arm. She saw no purpose in this.

"Oh God, Jack!" Renee nearly fell onto him. She hugged him tightly, though this probably wasn't the best idea.

He groaned, very softly, but returned the hug. It was what _she_ wanted, after all. He owed her thanks in any way she wanted it.

Tears poured steadily from her eyes, as she stood up again. Upon seeing this, Jack's eyes moistened as well.

"Renee… I want to thank you for everything you've ever done for me. I know people have been after me these past few years, you've kept them away. You've let me _relax_; you've _loved _me, Renee. I know that's not an easy thing to do." He threw a single laugh in here, hoping to relieve any sorrow, "I love you. More than anything in the world."

She knew he'd said this to Kim, but what kind of a person would dare to argue?

"Just… just know this, Renee. I'm not in pain right now. None. Remember that. And I need you to be strong. You'll get over this, you'll keep doing your job, and you'll keep serving your country, because they need you a lot more than I do."

Still, she was beyond words. She desperately stared at him, trying to understand. Trying to put together something meaningful.

Her mind was clouded, and already sending out a busy signal. She was concentrating on each word he'd just said, pulling out every bit of their meanings, and recording them, deep in her mind. Maybe she'd write them down; maybe the doctor had recorded them. But, if everything failed, she would remember each one, exactly the way he said them.

And the look on his face! He seemed so relieved. She could tell that he wasn't in pain.

"Oh Jack…!" she fell to him again, with her arms held back this time.

"You'll be fine, Renee. Just smile… with me. You'll be fine. Tell Kim and T-Teri that I love them too, okay? You'll be fine. Kim's letter is on my side of the bed."

She should've been listing off all these comforting words. He was never his own priority. It always belonged to those around him, whether he knew them personally or not.

"Okay, Jack. I promise. And I promise I'll be okay."

She followed his last request, and looked at his face. She smiled, though she didn't want to. She _couldn't' _bear to. But she found a way. Jack taught her how to do things like that.

Once she'd had enough, she let her head collapse to his chest. She had to look at him as she listened.

Yes, listened. She waited for each pound of his heart, anticipating the next. She heard it slow down, like the bridge of a song. She heard his breaths, calm and stable. Eventually, they subsided in quality. They turned into desperate gasps, which he masked and forced to be quiet. His heart was unhurried. His breathing stopped, with a glorious humming noise. Then his heart did as well.

"Renee…" was the last thing out of his mouth, aside from one of those wretched coughs.

What? Was he starting another thought? If he was, she'd never know it. She barely heard her name as he stammered it out between breaths. It had been broken into at least four painful syllables, and she focused only on his eyes as he said it.

She shrank onto his chest, and stayed there for what felt like eternity.

No, longer. Eternity was barely three years. This seemed like much, much more. She remembered crying, no, _weeping_, until his shirt was soaked beneath her.

No, she'd never be the same. She couldn't get over this. She couldn't go back to work. She couldn't call Kim. She felt fragile now, and _so_ alone.

She'd never be the same.

Never. Again.

This emotion was far too complicated.

* * *

_**Author's Note: There, I've had this written since this was first published, to make sure I'd actually finish something. **_

_**Hope you enjoyed it, and I'd love to hear any final thoughts :)**_

_**There MAY be a third installment, depending on reaction to this and whether or not I have the free-time. So there…**_

_**Again, thanks for reading!**_

_**~Sally  
**_

**_Previews:_**

**_I've written a Tony/Michelle piece that I'd really like some thoughts on. "Pretty Little Risk" check that out, if you're interested. _**

**_Also, I will be continuing "I Push, You Pull", as well as starting another Jack/Nina piece ("Plunge" is the working title)_**

**_Thanks for reading all this junk :)_**


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